


By Your Own Hand

by Candybara



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Begging, Breathplay, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Masochism, One Shot, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Rough Sex, Sadism, Shameless Smut, Spanking, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 12:22:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6566026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Candybara/pseuds/Candybara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He performed any task both trivial and meaningful with an incomparable fluidity of motion, a masterful efficiency, if you would. Basketball took up a great deal time, but even still, despite all the highest of coordinated passes and the cleanest of swished shots and the copper scrapes of leather against his skin, the pads of his fingers were still never more than mildly calloused. And yet, every time he took your hand in his, you would notice without fail that his palms were surprisingly smooth in contrast, and it almost always made you mistake softness for tenderness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By Your Own Hand

There had always been something about Imayoshi's hands. Something, you told yourself, though it was mainly for lack of a better word because they only intrigued you in the vaguest sense. You could never quite pinpoint why that was, but you supposed you could call it the familiarity of his touch and the fascination of his affection all wrapped up into something that captured your attention like nothing else and drew flaming chills down the smooth plane of your spine.

He performed any task both trivial and meaningful with an incomparable fluidity of motion, a masterful efficiency, if you would. Basketball took up a great deal time, but even still, despite all the highest of coordinated passes and the cleanest of swished shots and the copper scrapes of leather against his skin, the pads of his fingers were still never more than mildly calloused. And yet, every time he took your hand in his, you would notice without fail that his palms were surprisingly smooth in contrast, and it almost always made you mistake softness for tenderness.

So he would remain there in that too-calm state of waiting, simply tethering you close while you walked alongside him in comfortable silence, and when you finally took the initiative and let your fingers slip between his own, smiling at the way his grip always tightened marginally in response, you could feel his knuckles prominent along the back of his hand, often dry but rarely scabbed over.

And eventually that sly grin would spread across his face when he finally broke free of your grasp to coil his palm around your wrist, knowing he had you where no one else could see your face flush red with arousal or hear each panting moan of his name, and so of course when he pinned your arms above your head you could feel his nails graze your flesh, evenly clipped yet never grown out past the tips of his fingers.

It was a preference which started as mere convenience but over time had slowly blossomed into habit, though his grip would still leave crescent indents in clustered patterns of five along the narrowest parts of your wrists and it made for the best kind of possessiveness because it was still pleasure and heat.

And you liked it. You liked the way the warmth of his grasp would mingle amidst the gaps of his touch, and though his desire for intimacy was often short-lived, it came in strong, passionate bursts of need that you still had yet to successfully predict, and even when you did know, it rarely did you much good.

So when you found yourself sprawled out upon his bed, weight braced against your elbows and hips high in the air, you knew beyond a doubt. You knew what was coming, but regardless of that fact, nothing even remotely tangible could prepare you for the hot sting of skin against flesh as Imayoshi's hand came down hard over the swell of your ass, leaving you to wince and rock forward into the sheets curled under your palms.

Your thighs quivered with the strain of too-much-stimulation as his fingers twisted deeper, pumping in and out of you at a pace that struck you as painstakingly languorous despite the fact that you had already lost any semblance of control and were on the brink of losing your mind. His hand whipped down again with a resounding smack and you cried out, shuddering when you felt his palm slide soothing circles over your stinging flesh, touch working to caress the pain away even as the wetness between your legs continued to build in response to the onslaught of sensation.

You had never much thought yourself to be a masochist, but you found something oddly exhilarating about being able to hand yourself over to Imayoshi so effortlessly. There was always enough give and take to keep you at ease, but when he took, it became clear without a doubt that you thrived off his dominance and the ominous composure that surrounded his mystique.

If you could say that you once had a taste for vanilla, then it came to pass that the familiar flavor no longer felt like anything other than bitter boredom on the back of your tongue.

"Shou— _aah_ , fuck," you moaned, rocking your hips back to drive his fingers deeper through each steady curl of his wrist. "Right there..."

You felt ice capture your spine in an anticipatory chill as Imayoshi chuckled lowly in response, drawing his hand back once again only to let it snap back against the opposite lobe of your ass. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes with salt and irony as you choked on a piercing plea, your chest heaving with a series of harsh pants and airy puffs of laughter that tickled your lungs with raw satisfaction at the realness of your surrender, because nothing made you feel more alive.

"Harder?" Imayoshi purred, letting the heft of his palm rest heavy and warm against a reddening welt while his other hand continued to work your entrance into slick arousal. His fingers teased at the delicate lining of your inner walls, sliding in and out of you with something of a scissoring motion that made his ministrations impossibly easy as your folds parted around his knuckles.

“Yes,” you gasped, biting back a whine when you felt his thumb slide down to rub your clit in hot circles. “More, Shouichi, _please_.”

Imayoshi chuckled again, deep and mirthful. “More what, darling?” The hand that had been previously cupping your ass was beginning to crawl up the length of your spine, the skid of his palm dragging static lust in ripples over your flesh before coming to rest between your shoulder blades. He pushed you further into the mattress, letting his weight balance precariously against your hips as he leaned forward to breathe a whisper past the rim of your ear.

“Do you want me to punish you more like the naughty little girl you are? Do you want me to spank you until your ass is so sore you can’t even bear to sit without thinking of me?” You could all but feel the smirk that carried over into tone, leaving you with the lingering perception of amusement and justifiable arrogance. He knew he was right and you knew it too, but be damned if that would ever stop him from making absolutely certain that you were flustered beyond a shadow of a doubt and eager beyond your wildest dreams.

“Do you want me to fingerfuck your cunt until you’re screaming and crying and coming harder than you ever have before?” He continued, punctuating his point with another sharp curl of his wrist. “Or perhaps my fingers aren’t enough for you anymore…”

You visibly shuddered and he grinned at that, letting his hips inch forward until you could feel the underside of his length, hard and throbbing against the back of your thigh.

“I bet you’d like something a bit _bigger_ … wouldn’t you?”

A shaky gasp hitched in your throat as he made a beckoning motion with his fingers, his breath cooling the sweat on the back of your neck as he worked to stroke pleasure and sensation into your core.

“God, y-yes—” Your tongue felt thick and heavy in your mouth and the words on your lips felt like shifting sand, voice as waterlogged as the heat pooling in the pit of your stomach, but desperation was building in your blood and it was all you could do to keep yourself from outright crying for him to take you. “Yes, Shouichi, please. Please fuck me…”

Imayoshi hummed his contentment and let his fingers slip out of you with a slick slide, pulling his posture upright into alignment before prodding at your shoulder as a signal for you to flip over onto your back. You complied eagerly, chest heaving and legs spread wide in invitation, but he simply flashed you that teasing, disingenuous smirk you knew so well and leaned forward to drag the underside of his shaft along the surface of your moist folds.

“What exactly would you like me to fuck you with, my dear?” He crooned, running the tip of his erection over your clit. Your hips bucked in automatic response and you let your tongue flick out to wet your lips, emitting a whiny moan when you felt his length prod against your quivering entrance.

“Your— _mmnh_ … Y-your cock,” you gasped, blushing. Imayoshi peered down at you through the narrowed slits of his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching in satisfaction at your open admission.

“I see,” he lilted, palms crawling up the tops your thighs to pin your hips to the bed. “And how badly would you like me to fuck you?”

You took in a sharp breath as he rocked forward a fraction of an inch, just far enough to sink the head of his erection past the perimeter of your entrance, though he refused to slide into you fully. It was the kind of relief that made everything worse, the kind of relief that took whatever was left of your composure and turned it into ashes and dust.

“Oh god, p-please,” you choked, your voice as unstable as the tears clinging to your lashes. “Please, I-I need to feel you inside me. I don’t care if you break me, just… f-fuck me hard and please, please don’t stop.”

And with that, Imayoshi did three things. First, he laughed, letting the sound ring out deep and silky like the lust dripping through his veins and the sadism pouring through his blood. Then, he tugged you closer to his frame, pulling your hips forward to rest against his thighs before hooking one of your legs up over the slope of his shoulder. And then, finally, he entered you, pushing all the way through one fluid thrust until you could feel his abdomen brush your pubic bone and you had to fight to remember how to breathe properly.

He sighed softly at the way your heat enveloped him with slick friction, and for a moment you almost thought you could hear him cursing under his breath as he pulled out and drove into you again. You moaned when he drew back a second time, feeling your spine arch off the mattress and into his touch as his hands snaked up the length your body to cup your breasts.

“You have no idea how wet you are,” Imayoshi purred, his breath hitching through another harsh thrust. “Wet and hot and tight, just like the first time we did it.”

You whined as his fingers tugged your nipples into rigid peaks, his palms seeping static electricity into your skin. The pace at which his hips snapped forward was hard and fast, almost excessively so, but it was easily the most merciful thing he could have done for you at that moment, so you embraced the unforgiving nature of his ministrations with open arms and allowed a string of piercing whimpers to gush past your parted lips.

Imayoshi furrowed his brow and before long he was letting his movements slow to firm precision, rocking into you with meticulous intent until your sharp cries started to fade back into low moans. The amusement that was previously written across his face had long since begun to fade into focused resolution, but there was something in his expression that still came off as unreadable, even despite the seemingly straightforward inquiry that tumbled from his mouth next.

“Am I hurting you?” He asked, shallowly.

You blinked slowly, searching for a nonexistent semblance of concern in his tone. “Ah… no, not really.”

You should really not have been so unprepared for what he said next.

“Would you like me to?”

And then his fingers were at your throat, those beautiful, dangerous hands wrapped around the smooth curve of your neck, branding you with the promise of pleasure and pain and anticipation alike. His grip was loose enough to where you could still breathe easily despite the carnal glint in his eyes and the searing heat threading through your core, but you could still feel your pulse drumming like a sledgehammer against his palm as he canted his hips faster and deeper once again.

The thrilling surge of adrenaline had long since begun to peak in your veins, except every time his fingers twitched against your throat, it sent a new flood of stimulation cascading through your body. Imayoshi was pounding into you with hallowed conviction and it was more than you could ever ask for, but lust was hot and heavy behind your eyes and if not for just a moment, you felt greedy enough to want too much.

Your voice only barely tested the thresholds of a whisper when you looked him dead in the slim depths of his smoky gaze, swallowing any apprehensions that lingered coarse on the back of your tongue as you opened your mouth and spoke without a trace of misgiving in your tone.

“Yes.”

His grip tightened and you could feel the pressure in your core rise almost instantaneously as he rammed into you harder, his weight soon almost completely braced against your pulse point. Blood was pounding in your ears and the lack of air felt like liquid fire in your lungs but it hurt _so_ _good_ and how could you possibly even think about breathing when your climax was already preparing to string your ego up in knots?

Your vision was starting to blur into darkness and you were sure you looked a mess because you felt like one by the time your release finally consumed you. Your hips jolted through a sudden surge of torridity, toes furling and unfurling against the sheets as you drowned in a cresting wave of pleasure and sunk into the depths of your consciousness.

You allowed the throbbing heat of numbness to swallow you up, to burn you alive like kindling and kerosene. Some may have called it self-destruction, but to you it was nothing more than watching fireworks light up behind your eyes, and if all it took was one match, you would gladly set yourself ablaze.

You choked on a shuddering gasp and it was only then that you became aware of the fact that his hands had loosened around your neck, leaving you to pant and cough as oxygen flooded your lungs with the cool sprinklings of an early dusk. Imayoshi groaned once, thrust twice, and then he was spilling his release over the curve of your abdomen, his hips lurching through a pearly flow of gratification that smeared your skin with ropes of warmth.

He was still panting by the time you finally caught your breath, his head bowed forward just enough to let his bangs fall in front of his eyes. He shifted to drop his weight onto his elbows, emitting the softest of moans as his softening length grazed your inner thigh.

You reached up to trace his jawline with your fingertips, caressing sensitivity into the flushed heat of his skin. He gave you a look that made your heart skip a beat before flashing you a quiet smile, one that you thought could be genuine if he were capable of such a thing. Still, when you felt him slide his fingers against the back of your hand, gingerly pressing his palm over your knuckles, you had to smile in response.

There may have still been something candid in him that you had never been shown, but his secrets were his and there was enough honesty in his touch for you to trust him regardless of that fact. And when your legs were entangled with his and his hands, his beautiful, perfect hands were linked with yours, and there was love and intimacy and everything in between, you thought there no good reason to hold your breath about it. So you never did.

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up at http://imagine-nsfw-basuke-things.tumblr.com/ for more sinful reader-insert adventures!


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